


greenhouse talk.

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Banter, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-13 23:34:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15375858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: It's a Saturday morning.Harry engages Lucius in lazy conversation.





	greenhouse talk.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: “i think human consciousness is a tragic misstep in evolution.” and Harry/Lucius

Harry sprawls in the corner of Lucius’ greenhouse, enjoying the way the sun shines down onto his skin. He’s wearing a set of pyjamas, sipping occasionally at his coffee, and he watches Lucius work. He wears a green apron over his robes, his sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and he carefully prunes the roses.

They sigh and inhale as he touches them, some of the flowers leaning in toward him as he cuts away their thorns. 

“How conscious are they?” Harry asks, lazily. The roses have some Urdu name that Harry keeps trying and failing to pronounce, but they always seem to love Lucius’ attention when he works on them on Saturday mornings. It’s wonderful, to take a break like this, from the rest of it all, from the scrutiny of the magical world, where  _he_  can lean back and watch instead, feel the steady ache in his thighs, feel the bruises lingering on his wrists. 

“Not very,” Lucius answers. “They know we’re here - all plants do. But they know who we are as individuals, as people. They know  _me_ , know what I smell like.”

“They love you,” Harry says quietly. Lucius shrugs his shoulders. “Isn’t that a part of consciousness? Feeling stuff? Feeling love?”

“I think human consciousness is a tragic misstep in evolution,” Lucius murmurs. 

“And here I thought we were talking about plants,” Harry says, amused. “But I guess it all cycles back to your misanthropy, huh?” Lucius glances over his shoulder, looking at Harry wryly, and once upon a time - five years ago, three years ago, a year ago, even, maybe it would have pissed him off to have a conversation like this, with the Malfoy patriarch, of  _all_ people. 

He doesn’t feel pissed off, now. He feels comfortable. Warm. He smiles, and he hides it in the mug as Lucius turns back to his flowers. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Hit me up on Tumblr](http://dictionarywrites.tumblr.com/faq). Requests always open.


End file.
